The Beginning our OUR story

Paris. La ville d’amour. Well, yes. That’s true but it’s so much more really. It’s big, scary, beautiful, magical; and full of Parisians. We arrived on December 19th with a full 10 days to explore this magical place. It didn’t go quite as we had planned.

Day one was a mixture of wet feet, bad maps, a way bigger city than we were used to, exciting landmarks (eek! Eiffel tower! The Louvre!), some mild Christmas shopping, overpriced cafes and a fight that goes down in history. We won’t bore you with the gorey details. We have both expressed that we want this blog to be a brutally honest and real account of our travels, however, the transformation that occurred on that street (literally a sidewalk) in a Parisian suburb cannot really be explained. It was overdue and had little to do with each other and everything to do with ourselves. (Does that even make sense?) All I know is that I (Kalene) could actually feel myself in the present moment, come into myself in a way I’ve never experienced. Things became clearer about what I needed to do, what I wanted to do and what crap I was no longer willing to put up with. And I figured it all out with a 3$ bottle of vodka straight up and a really long cry, which turned to uncontrollable laughter and back to sobs a good six times.

We sat and cried uncontrollably (yes we). Strangers were looking at us but we didn’t care. We were having a moment--together. We realized we were being too influenced by others opinions and our own fears. We were stretching ourselves too thin. We decided that “From now on we buy what we need when we need it; no more compromising on our adventure”. Yet, we still planned to stick to a secure budget. I (Ken) threw my piece of shit boots in a nearby trash can and wore Kalene’s socks in my runners until we got to an overpriced hostel. It was great though because we left a lot of emotional baggage on the curb.

The next phase of Paris involved preparation for the Christmas we’d been dreaming about for the past 6 months. Buying proper clothes for the weather, Christmas music, shopping (separately on a few occasions), a free walking tour of Paris, the Louvre, and a fabulous night at a sold out theatre. We were still trying to eat on a budget and decide when we needed something (like Ken’s new boots) or just wanted something (like Kalene’s Starbucks). We had after all sprung for the piece de resistance, a hotel for Christmas for 3 nights. Tres chic.

December 23rd we checked into the Hotel Design de la Sorbonne and hit up Monmartre. It’s a pretty calm, artsy and cheap neighbourhood. We were enjoying some sushi for lunch but our hearts weren’t into the tourist thing. We wanted to be home with carols on the radio and Christmas cookies in hand. So we headed back to the hotel to cuddle in bed and try to get in the spirit. I (Kalene) ended up finding Majic 100 the Ottawa radio station which plays Christmas tunes all day. We streamed it on the iMac provided by the hotel and poured some rum and cokes. We were trying to pump ourselves up but somehow we were getting more and more lonely. We felt trapped. It occurred to us that Crhistmas is about family and friends. Paris felt cold and was full of strangers. Finally Ken suggested we get out of the hotel room and take a walk. So, we bundled up good and stepped outside. It was snowing. In Paris. The day before Christmas. I (Kalene) would get my white Christmas after all.

Magic ensued. We walked all the way from Sorbonne to the Eiffel tower. It wasn’t even on purpose at first, we were peeking in store windows and reminiscing about Christmases past. The snow was falling around us with a deafening silence and for once, the streets of Paris were quiet. After about 20 minutes, we could see the beacon of romance shining ahead of us. The Eiffel tower in all her glory. We walked for over five hours that night. We had FINALLY had the moment of magic we wanted in Paris, and there were many more to come.

There’s this weird balance you have to find while traveling, that of letting the moments happen naturally, and putting in the effort to make the adventure come to life. It’s a ying and yang of having goals and dreams and not allowing the things that don’t meet your dreams ruin the journey. It’s really hard! I mean really really hard. I think we both have the goal of learning to live in the moment, something I (Kalene) have always struggled with. This trip is making that struggle glaringly obvious. I see myself wanting the adventure to be bigger, more unbelievable, more exciting. And thus, I forget to enjoy the excitement I am fortunate enough to get.


The Story of the Ring. By Ken. So, during our colossal meltdown on the streets of Paris we were getting ourselves together I then knew that I was with the one person I wanted to have all my colossal meltdowns with and that I would forever want to be cold, wet, hungry, lost, and crying with that same lady…Kalene Cherisse Tilson. For the days leading up to Christmas we agreed to split up and Christmas shop for each other. We each needed to have something to open on the morning of the 25th. But, every time we did so, I used the time exploring jewelry shops. I knew what I wanted because I knew what Kalene wanted; more than that, I knew what Kalene liked. She is not a typical material driven girl; I knew that the ring I give to her in proposal of marriage she would consider the perfect one.

After seeing many options from many stores and many well-dressed Parisian men and women, I finally found it. A sparkling diamond surrounded by smaller sparkling diamonds. Perfect. I bought, paid, returned, paid more, and left….with the ring. One cannot really explain that exhilarating yet scary as ever feeling. My mind was racing and my heart was pounding. I also remembered that I still had no Christmas gift for her. Yeah, I have a diamond ring but it wasn’t for Christmas. I went over and over in my mind how and when I would do this. I could be truly unoriginal and unimaginative and surprise her at the Eiffel Tower. I knew that with her and I the moment would present itself naturally so I held out for it…or at least until she found the ring in my bag and asked a silly question like “What’s this?”

I carried the ring with me everywhere I went from that moment on. I couldn’t risk losing it or having her find it. We were backpacking together and our areas of personal space were pretty much restricted to our own bodies. Everything else was “our” space. And by that I mean Kalene’s space and Ken’s stuff will go “wherever”. In order for this momentous moment to be special I wanted the ring to be in the case so I could show to her in all its glory. Problem is, the box was quite big and I often looked like I was smuggling something or shoplifting. The giant bulge in my jacket pocket was about as conspicuous as using a dumptruck for a paper route.

Chrismas eve came. Could’ve been a good idea to do it then. We had plans to go to Notre Dame Cathedral that night for midnight mass. I thought I had better take it with me just in case. Our hotel was within walking distance to the cathedral. It was a bit cold, we both dressed up as best as two backpackers can; Kalene looked especially scrumptious. We arrived at about ten p.m. We found an allright seat and enjoyed a documentary film on the cathedral itself. I criticized it as my duty as a film scholar…it was done well. The Notre Dame choir was fantastic. Very moving and inspiring classical music. At midnight mass began. People were everywhere, packed into every isle in the place. We listened, sat, stood, and sang. Two young girls near us were not partaking in the festivities they were fumbling with their ipod and baguette!? They were at least nineteen and should have known better that this was a special occasion for those around them and to shut the hell up. Kalene was sitting to my right. The giant ring box was in my left pocket. I couldn’t get comfortable. My arm was lying on the box itself on my lap. It was stupid problem to have but it was a problem nonetheless. I am sure Kalene knew. I wanted to surprise her so the idea of it happening that night was scary. We were also very tired. I was up late the night before Skyping people. Mass ended and we left. Kalene was very cold and very tired. It was not fair of me to spring this moment on her. I figured, instead of proposing to her that night I would just get us lost on the way home…so I did.

Christmas morning. It was very sunny. The sun came into our room and woke us up quite early. We went to breakfast and ate like royalty. I forgot to mention that first thing Christmas morning, which was a Saturday too mind you, a garbage truck went by. There are too many reasons to list why that would not have happened in Canada. A Christmas on a Saturday in Canada?...your clocks don’t report to work on time.

We had arrangements to Skype both our families that afternoon so we can see them during their Christmas morning. Kalene had surprised me by digitally renting National Lampoon’s Christmas vacation. The greatest Christmas movie ever. We lay in our bed and watched. It was very majestic. This film has taken on an almost euphoric status for us both, representing family, Christmas, and everything we both hold dear. As much as it was funny it was quite sad. I remember the exact scene where it happened. Clark is standing looking out his window wearing a Chicago blackhawks jersey. He is fantasizing about his pool ideas. It was there that I paused it. I needed a break and Kalene had to pee. We had a quick chat about how much we missed home and we both decided that we would never be away from home for another Christmas again…ever. Kalene got up and entered the very crampt toilet (which is what Europeans call a washroom/bathroom). I sprang up immediately and grabbed my coat. I ripped it from the hanger, grabbed the box and opened it. It looked stunning. I licked the top of the ring to remove any dust or dirt and make it shine even more. I had no thoughts other than what I was about to do. It just felt right. This was the moment I was waiting for…we were planning our lives together in Paris on our most favourite day. I wedged myself between the wall and the bed outside the toilet door and got down on one knee. Our room was small. I was literally wedged. I heard a flush then a faucet. Wholy shit this is going to happen. I had no qualms about if she would say yes or not or if she would think this is how she imagined it or not or if the ring was perfect or not…I knew she would love the whole thing. The door opened and she saw me. Her face was in complete shock. She put her hands on her chest.

We disagree slightly about what I actually said but it went something like this. I told her I loved her, I wanted to be with her forever, I wanted a house, kids, a vegetable garden, to compost, and finally to get a dog. I took her right hand to simply hold as I spoke to her. She took this as me not knowing which hand the ring went on but trust me I knew what I was doing. I don’t think I actually said will you marry me, I asked her to be my wife. I took the ring from its place and slid it on her left hand finger. She said of course I will. Not yes, of course I will. Go Ken. She studied the ring, we were both crying, we kissed, and I got up. I asked her if she liked it and she said it was perfect…but that it was too big. Ah, pooh!

I, the bride-to-be couldn’t be happier. The moment was perfect for me, very romantic, and very real. Also, telling my family, though nerve-racking was great. They all congratulated us, I cried, and no one seemed concerned. Telling my grandparents, who are well into their 80’s over Skype video-chat, now, there’s moment I’ll never forget. It took a good five minutes to quiet everyone down and for my grandparents to get over the shock of being able to see us and talk to us in real time. If I couldn’t tell everyone is person, at least I could clearly see their reactions. It was awesome.

I know that this will go down as the most memorable Christmas is our arsenal so far. Raw and emotional, we realized that if there’s one lesson in all of this it is that we love certain traditions, and we’ll try anything once, but Christmas away from home it probably one thing we will NEVER repeat.

Big things. Dirty things. French things.

Kalene’s blog: January 3rd, 2011. Big things are happening here. We’ve been on the road for exactly 2 months and 2 days and it feels like a lifetime and a snap of the fingers all in one breath. People kept warning me I wouldn’t be the same person when I returned, and well I’m not back yet, but I’m also DEFINITELY not the same person.

This trip isn’t always roses the way it may have seemed in my last post. Of course there are snags and homesickness, and colds and rain and gloom. And DIRT. I’m not a prissy girl, not even close, I like to sweat, like the best of em, I can handle multiple days in a row without a shower, I can deal with poopy dipers and vomit when I need to. But the place we stayed in Strasburg France was absolutely disgusting. Vile. Putrid…. Why didn’t I leave after one night? Because I’m Canadian, and that would have been rude. I know Ken mentioned this but really, they had a ‘pet’ rat that I’m pretty sure just came and went on his own schedule. Shudder.

I must mention one HILARIOUS night we had in Strasbourg. Ken’s friend from high school invited us to come to the ‘chateau’ where he was living. I was totally confused and thought this was popular boy-speak for the flatshare he lived in. Nope, turns out it was actually a chateau. Big, beautiful and nice and warm. We got soaked getting to the castle, but upon arrival threw our stuff in the dryer and ate Mexican and drank beer. It was a FABULOUS night in amidst CANADIANS! YAY HOME! A special shout out to a drinking game much like horse racing. Too many beers later and an early morning train we headed out with big smiles on our faces, back to the filth and grime. Yup, I was cinda-fucking-rella for a night, back to a pumpkin at midnight.

Luxembourg was a lot of fun with Kasia. We made a snowman, toured the winding streets and quiet paths, went to the Grund, had a great night listening to some instrumental bands at a little bar in the downtown and then a nice night sitting around drinking too much and talking with some great jazz playing in the background. Luxembourg, was great fun. Again, THANK YOU KASIA!!!

Ken mentioned Nice and Monaco but he neglected to tell you that while in Nice we took our first afternoon apart. This was a much needed break from each other. Don’t get me wrong, we’re in love, but it was 6 weeks at this point with no more than 30 minutes apart. A girl needs to be one with her thoughts every now and again. I went to this little town called Eze Village where they make perfume and spent some nice solitary hours wandering around the tiniest streets you’ve ever seen and then hiking down to the port to catch the bus back. It’s funny but when we met that night and actually had something new to talk about. We were tripping on each other trying to get tell the details our of adventures. That night we sat on some rocks and had a bottle of Champagne and ate yummy pastries from a local pattiserie watching the sunset. The view was stellar. I’ve never seen anything like it.

Ken mentioned Marseille and I have to give a quick comment to our first hosts. Alex and Deb were really fun. They told us about this area called ‘Les Calanques’ we hiked around these limestone cliffs. Gorgeous. Also, the meals we shared were positively decadent. And Blokus.

As Ken mentioned again, the second host was a nightmare. This man is not mean or anything he just lives a completely different life than I’m used to. He smokes like a chimney. Indoors. I smelled like a tobacco plant by the time I left. And, yes he was completely irresponsible. He left us alone on the side of a road at midnight for 40 minutes and never turned up. WHO DOES THIS!?! Not Canadians. It baffled me. Then, we got tortured all night by a mouse running around our bags. Then, The 2nd night of our stay he just never came home at all. His roommates did though. They partied downstairs and got so drunk that one of them puked their guts out for hours, then clogged the toilet and flooded the flat. Awesome.

I actually kept my cool pretty well while it was all happening but this lead to a breakdown of magnanimous proportions later on. I got on the train to Paris, the leg of the trip I was looking forward to the most and started listening to the Vinyl Café Christmas special podcast. I looked out the window and cried almost the whole way to Paris. I was homesick, no denying.

As I said, I know I’m not the same person I was when I left. I think in some ways I can handle much more stress, but in other ways I am also figuring out my limits. Hell, I can laugh when my watch gets launched under a bus (yes, this did actually happen to me), but I CANNOT handle rotten food lying around and mice nibbling my toes. I can handle little sleep on lumpy beds, with not enough blankets, but I cannot handle being hungry. I’m very cranky on an empty stomach. I’m constantly playing with the balance of the image I have in my head for how this trip is ‘supposed’ to go. I try not to have pre-conceived ideas, but of course I do. I love to notice the little details of the people we meet and the places we see so I’m appreciating where I come from A LOT more. Anyway, I’ll leave it here but stay tuned. Paris was an adventure to say the least.

Kentry

Blog entry. By Ken. Here we go. Kalene and I made our way from Germany into France, which is scary because France is full of French people and I didn’t know what to expect. Though I was excited about learning more of the French language. Like most of my male-anglophone-ontarians I learned French in school and do not speak it!

We got to Strasbourg, France amidst heavy rain. We were scheduled to stay with a lovely couchsurfing couple but at the last minute they advised us to ensure we brought a sleeping bag. Ugh, we are traveling for a year and have no such thing, also, our profile clearly says so and the profile of this couple said that they can provide sleep gear. So we had to switch hosts last minute because they were dumb. This ended up being one of the worst experiences of our trip. Another couple took us in which was great but we arrived at their home and it was without a doubt the dirtiest most disgusting place we had ever visited and we had to sleep there for three nights. In retrospect we should have left after one night but we are so Canadian that we did not want to seem rude. It amazed me that a female lived there cause it was miles past gross. Kalene showered with flip flops on.

After that crap we visited an old friend from Toronto who now lives in Luxembourg. We were so happy that we got in contact with her because Luxembourg was very cute and those two days were very relaxed and comfortable. We had some drinks, saw a local band at a nightclub, and ate great food. Thank you Kasia!

***At this point Kalene says to Ken. “I think we should write more about Luxembourg and not just breeze past it,”

Ken: “It’s Luxembourg, it’s used to it.”

From Luxembourg we headed south where it was a bit warmer. Nice, France where Kalene’s mum spent a year in University. It was great to finally see the elusive Mediterranean sea. It was dark the fist night and the water was black. A hostel for one night in order to do some much needed laundry. After the experience in Strasbourg I wanted to throw out all my clothes…partly because I have been losing weight and I want to get tighter fitting clothes to show of my manly physique. Apparently carrying around your girlfriends crap for two months is good for the abs.

The first morning in Nice we jogged along the coast of the Mediterranean in the sunlight. Christmas trees are sold along this coast too FYI. We spend a day in Monaco which is the second smallest nation (next to Vatican) and it is very rich. They do not have income tax! Many of the world’s richest people set up in Monaco to avoid losing money to taxes. It was pretty, but geared toward the wealthy.

From Nice we stopped for an afternoon in Cannes. Large film fest town…that’s it. We arrived in Marseille which is the city Kalene and I have both voted as the one to skip if you are in France. A lot was closed in winter, or under construction, or both. It didn’t seem to have a lot to do, was a bit pricy, kind of rude and just overall poopy. This culminated in a very irresponsible couchsurfing host. I don’t want to condemn a whole nation but two bad experiences with people both of which happened in France. I guess it was inevitable because we had been spoiled by lovely people up until then.

Being a few hours late is considered on time. There is a lack of what I want to call accountability amongst some Europeans which I did not expect. I thought all people lived like I do in Canada.

The holidays were approaching but snow was nowhere to be seen. We had our hotel booked in Paris and we were getting excited about it.